Crushes and me, or why I get so sad

[chanaleh]

I'm leaving this public because I think there are a lot of people in my life who have watched this pattern play out, who might appreciate my reflections on it.

Here's how it works.

I encounter someone whom I:

(a) find charming and/or feel an initial spark of attraction to;
(b) get at least a small degree of signal back from (i.e., they strike me as somewhat accessible);
(c) feel, however, like I can't quite get a grip on. Basically, either I just don't expect them to reciprocate the attraction, or there's something otherwise slightly elusive (guarded, unreachable...) about them. This appears to be a crucial component. Sure, you can put it down to "the thrill of the chase" (as ablock does), but from in here, there's something going on that's a little more subtle than that.

This is a proven recipe for causing me to eat my heart out over that person for days, weeks, occasionally months. As such, it's pretty self-explanatory. The part that gets me, and that I'm trying to pin down right now, is the way certain people -- through no fault of their own -- totally push that third button, transforming me from a fairly healthy and well-adjusted woman to a sad and clingy puddle of mush. Because at some point I enter this zone where, the closer I actually get to that person (and this often means physically), the more aware I become of some subtle unbridgeable gap -- that there's some kind of closeness I want from him that I can't quite identify, much less express, much less obtain -- and simultaneously, the more intense my longing for it becomes.

The thing about that, further, is that the intensity of the longing (and of the concurrent sadness) has practically nothing to do with the actual rightness of the person I'm with. It needn't mean there's anything about him that I think is magically well-suited for me -- in fact, often it's kind of the opposite. And yet I become utterly fascinated by him (in all his individuality, whatever he may be like). What happens is that when I'm in that zone I don't care whether he's actually, realistically, good partner material. There's something else about it that I am playing out, emotionally, that compels me.

And the problem is that there's something downright addictive about that feeling. Part of me actually gets off on that frustrated longing, because it's such an intensifier of whatever positive feelings I already have about being close to someone. (Coming across to them as some kind of basket case, on the other hand, doesn't please me so much.)

The situation doesn't always script exactly this way. Sometimes I connect with that person in a way that *does* turn out to be sustainable, and transcends the original fraughtness; several of my actual long-term dating relationships have grown out of a place like this. Other times, while things may never really develop romantically with that person, I come to terms with my feelings on my own over time; the fraughtness eventually wears off as I get to know the actual person I've been crushing on, and what is left becomes the basis for a warm friendship. (Even if the maddening urge to kiss them never does fully wear off. That can be a perfectly pleasant and comfortable dimension of my feelings for someone... once I get over the fraughtness.)

Then again, sometimes it never really gets resolved in either direction. (Often because the person in question doesn't have the patience or finesse to cope with the heartache they've accidentally tapped into, and runs away, or cuts things short.) And those are the ones I feel like I never completely get over. Or it takes years until I really do.

(Or sometimes I think I've gotten over it with someone -- and then as soon as I get around him in person again, I find myself right back where I started, a sodden heap of angst and hormones. It's a phenomenon with which I have managed to totally mystify more than one person over the course of my life. Because it's not even anything that person has done, it's basically all internal to me... and suddenly they're left wondering what the hell happened to the perfectly sensible, independent, interesting girl they were just talking to. And rightfully so.)

Not everyone I've ever been in love with has followed this pattern. But sometimes (and this was much more true years ago) I've believed that I was desperately in love with someone when this was in fact all that was going on. (I think this was what happened with a certain lead guitarist whom cos and tapuz and possibly even struct will remember.) I've at least learned to tell the difference over time.

I'm not sure yet what to conclude from all this; I'm still trying to work out the dynamics. But I know this pattern has hampered my ability to build solid, mutually healthy relationships with some generally cool and worthwhile people over the years... and I don't want to be ruled by it when I see it happening again.

On the other hand, I do value that intensity of feeling, and is there a way to have it that isn't inherently unstable and counterproductive?

And with that, off to tonight's rehearsal.

Comments

[xlii.livejournal.com]

Thanks for posting this. It's really reassuring to see that someone else has the same kind of emotions happen to them.
-Sam

[klingonlandlady.livejournal.com]

Hmm, the way you describe it makes it sound like you're reacting to something else in your experience, not just the person in question... a repeating pattern like that would make a shrink say you're playing out some earlier dynamic. Was there anything about your early relationships (parents, siblings) that gave you a similar "I really want to be close but can't" feeling?

[chanaleh.livejournal.com]

*Ding!*

Believe me, I am all over this topic in therapy these days. :-)

[struct.livejournal.com]

IANA psychoanalyst, but here's my two-bit pop psychology analysis:

It sounds like you're describing a moth-to-flame type of phenomenon. The heat of closeness attracts you, but you're kept at bay by the inferno of deepest intimacy. Thus you wind up flitting around the fire, always attempting to come as close as possible but never able to achieve true union with what beguiles you. Perhaps this analogy is also applicable to the necessity of elusiveness with your initial crushes: a distant but visible glimmer is entrancing, whereas imminent brightness is blinding.

Here's another thought: achievement can be threatening. Successfully climbing a mountain doesn't automatically bring with it contentment or exultation. In fact the opposite often occurs: one reaches the summit, looks around, and says "Oh shit, NOW what?" We humans, or at least a good number of us, are hardwired to seek challenge, especially those of us who have faced grave personal difficulty. That which is at hand, that which we no longer have to fight for, can become suspect -- too easy, if you will.

Maybe what you're experiencing is explicable and comprehensible. However, I've learned (thanks to years in and out of therapy) that emotional processes oftentimes defy being comprehended in any context other than their own. Whether or not it makes sense, this is the way that you operate. Allow the process to take you where it will, without constantly judging it. This may seem like being "ruled by it" but really it's the opposite. It's allowing yourself to be who you are without self-censorship.

Being fully honest with yourself in this way then lets you be fully honest in your relationships. If you can be fully accepting of this aspect of yourself, even though it's perturbing, you're then free to talk about it with your partner (he may or may not be accepting or understanding, but you are, and that's all that matters). You're also free to talk about the challenging thoughts/feelings/behaviors with yourself, and perhaps even use them to your advantage.

You said that you're worried about your feelings being "unstable and counterproductive". Instability, as I'm sure you know, is par for the course in relationships: all you can do is hang on tight and ride the roller coaster. I'm not sure that "counterproductive" is really an applicable term for a relationship, however. "Counterproductive" implies that there's some specific set goal that you're working toward. Isn't the game of love, like the game of life, a game of unknowns?

To put it another way, love is more like improvisation than theatre. In theatre, the actor knows the given circumstances in advance: who the character is, what lines the character has, what the character's scene objective is, who else is in the scene with the actor, what lines they have, what the blocking is, what's going to take place, and so forth. Any unexpected non-scripted move like a missed entrance or a blown cue-line is generally counterproductive (sometimes disastrously so).

Whereas with improv, like with love, all of the given circumstances are generated dynamically. Setting, plot, character, arc, dynamic, action, even the overall structure of the improv, all are made up on the spot. There are general guidelines but no hard-and-fast rules. The productivity of a move in a scene can't be judged on its own merits. A move may be brilliant, or it may be terrible, but the important thing is not the move itself but the reaction to it. The key to good improv, like good relationships, is the partners' mutual engagement and receptivity to each other.

[chanaleh.livejournal.com]

Thanks for putting so much thought into this. :-)

I'm not sure that "counterproductive" is really an applicable term for a relationship, however. "Counterproductive" implies that there's some specific set goal that you're working toward.

Well, I think it's safe to stipulate "building closeness with person C" as a general short-term goal state, and therefore to assert that getting all overwrought about it can actually work against that goal. Sometimes the best way to get a thing is not to want it QUITE so much.

[struct.livejournal.com]

Thanks for putting so much thought into this. :-)

My pleasure babe. I did wind up putting more time and thought into that post than I thought I would, but your open and honest original post prompted me to attempt to reply in reciprocal fashion. Besides, I have time to kill until Spring Quarter starts.

DISCLAIMER for the rest of this post as well as the last one: I am not a licensed therapist, nor am I the graduate of several twelve-step programs. I do come from a family of therapists though, and I'm pretty sure I've absorbed some therapeutic wisdom via osmosis. I have no problem being told that I'm full of it, however.

Well, I think it's safe to stipulate "building closeness with person C" as a general short-term goal state, and therefore to assert that getting all overwrought about it can actually work against that goal. Sometimes the best way to get a thing is not to want it QUITE so much.

I'm splitting hairs here, but my view of closeness is that it's grown organically rather than built methodically. One can pay close attention to it and nurture it, but it will live or die of its own accord. If it blossoms, then c'est si bon -- if it dies, then zut alors. Que sera sera and all those other trite cliches.

As for being overwrought, I would be wary of clamping down on your emotions. Be mindful of them, observe them, notice how they operate, but beware of that nasty inner editor who decrees: "I should not feel this way, therefore I'm not going to allow myself to feel this way." Repression invariably leads to the repressed feeling coming back with a vengeance at the most inopportune time.

If I were you, I would say to myself "OK, here I go again, craving this relationship very badly. This has happened before, I know what this is about. Rather than fighting or recoiling, I'm merely going to observe what's occurring and let it run its course."

This is of course easier said than done. I myself have a hell of a time struggling with attachment to feeling or not feeling a given way. I've found that it helps to keep in mind the transient nature of life. Emotional maelstroms seem like they're never going to go away, but inexorably they blow over. One can flail against the storm, or cower from it... or one can accept the tempest and allow it to blow through oneself.

If you haven't read it already, I heartily recommend Jon Kabat-Zinn's Full Catastrophe Living. I think you could get a lot out of it.

For what it's worth, that once again is my two-hundredths of a buck.

[hammercock.livejournal.com]

Someone once told me that over time he's come to correlate this kind of intense, compelling rush of feeling with women who are really, really, screamingly, insanely bad for him, and that he's learned to run far, far away from them as soon as he notices himself feeling like that.

I know that the rush of NRE is addictive, but you might want to start thinking about whether the subsequent mood crashing is worth the momentary thrill. It sounds like NRE is your drug of choice, you know? That can't be healthy in the long run. The intensity of feeling does wear off somewhat in a relationship over time, once you get over the hormone rush and you start to truly get to know the other person. Maybe you can find a way to train yourself to take a step back when you start to feel the familiar giddiness, and then a way to find similar gratification from the real person instead of the idealized person on whom you're crushing.

a book to read

[roozle.livejournal.com]

You have created here, a spot-on description of limerence, as Dorothy Tennov describes it in Love and Limerence, which is a book I highly recommend when you're feeling ... like that. For me, it was helpful to have a word to describe that state, it was more than helpful to realize that it was a significantly common enough pattern to need a word, and it was wonderful to have a map of the territory, so to speak, a fieldguide to the pattern being recapitulated and a leg up in understanding the dynamics of it.

I'll be happy to say more some other time.

[(Anonymous)]

That's dead on. I don't acknowledge many of my crushes for that reason.

[jehanna.livejournal.com]

Ahgaaaahhhd get out of my BRAAAIIINNNNNN....

*ahem*

Yes, that sounds ever so slightly familiar. You are not alone. :P

[avacon.livejournal.com]

Been there. Done (or felt) pretty much that. For me, most of the time it seems to turn into unrequited crush/love/lust/angst, though. (ie, most of the times it has felt that there was some possibility of mutual interest and then afterward I found out that they were Just Not Interesting[tm].) However, these sorts of things can turn into *wonderful* friendships if treated properly, even if the romantic parts don't pan out. However, as you mention, those friendships often do seem to be filled with some level of angst and an occasional desire to just kiss them, even if that would be a horrible idea.

I've found that straight-forward communication is a good way (for me at least) to handle these sorts of things, although I sometimes have trouble finding the energy to send out that communication. Sometimes a written letter (of the sort re-read after sleeping on it to make sure that it doesn't sound creepy or clingy) expressing interest and asking what interest there is in return can be useful for getting an answer that can at least allow things to move on to some slightly more stable state. It still can take time before a part of my brain is no longer willing to do almost anything to make them happy, though, which can be problematic.

Regarding perception of crushes, I've noticed the same thing. I refer to it as having a crush on "the concept of someone" rather than on them. When you meet someone attractive and interesting it seems easy (for me at least) to build up a mental model of an idealized version of them that contains and extends their good attributes while leaving out the bad attributes. When getting to know them better, sometimes it is still the mental model that persists predominently.

There is something amazingly exhilerating but also immensely frustrating about crushess. I really wish that the former came without the latter, especially when the latter also involves the crush being unrequited and just purely frustrating. It feels there is some sort of release just beyond a threshold but that it is just out of reach and that it is tearing away heart and breath.

Thanks!

[zogathon.livejournal.com]

Thanks for posting this. :) I don't really work this way; my crushes are vastly different from what you describe. But this post is really interesting both because I think you're cool (and hence knowing more about you is cool) and because I really, really enjoy seeing how other people tick.

So, yeah. Thanks!

[teddywolf.livejournal.com]

Tough one there.

I used to have very strong crushes where I'd mope about what might be or was a lack of reciprocation. At this point I usually deal with such a lack and resign myself to the fact that not everybody I get a crush on will want to connect with me that way - and that some people I get that kind of crush on may actually not be healthy for me.

It falls under the heading "Life is Tricky" for me.

[msmidge.livejournal.com]

I think this sounds like one of those things that can take a lifetime to sort out...is that depressing? I know the feelings you are describing, but happily the stability of being in a relationship with the right person has taken care of it for me. It might well be that if we split up, I'd have to deal with it all over again. :/ Anyway, I think sometimes having a stable relationship--with a roommate, even with a pet, who is always at home with you!--can help quell the irrational yearning to be close to someone that you don't really know that well. Unless your pet is a jerk.

But anyway, aside from the pet issue...are you already clear about what you are looking for in a partner? I imagine you wouldn't want to spend your life in a relationship with someone you have to chase after, or even in a relationship where you don't feel confident that the other person likes you/wants to be with you as much as you want to be with them. I think part of the reason we wind up in these kind of relationships anyway could be that we want to convince the other person that they really should value us the way we value them, especially when we are going to all the trouble to see how great they are in the first place. I suppose you can't go out looking to meet people holding in mind the criterion, "They must like me as much as I like them," but you can get a sense of whether something feels in whack or out of whack when you ask yourself if that reciprocity is there.

[(Anonymous)]

I think I'm in klingonlandlady's camp on this one. A repeating pattern often has a deeper cause.

The one thing I didn't get clearly from your writing is what you want to have happen in such situations. You're pretty clear on what you don't want, but have you tried visualizing what it would be like if one of these situations didn't cause you to collapse into a sodden heap of angst and hormones? (nice phrase, btw)